


before we get lost

by softambrollins



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Making Up, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 16:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17852723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softambrollins/pseuds/softambrollins
Summary: "You're really determined to just fuck everything up, huh?" Seth asks him, and it doesn't need an answer this time.Seth has no idea how right he really is.





	before we get lost

**Author's Note:**

> Post-RAW February 18th. [So this happened.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFM7MboV0-Y) And who really knows what the hell this means, but I need them to actually talk about their shit even if it's a total disaster.

After he's showered and changed, he knocks on Seth's locker room door. He doesn't know what he's hoping for. He just knows that they're not finished with each other. Not by a long shot.

He hears Seth mutter that it's open and he carefully pushes the door open.

"What now?" Seth asks when he spots him, looking up at him from where he's sitting, half-annoyed and half-cautious, almost.

Dean slowly steps into the room, gently closes the door behind him, just stands right there in front of Seth. Seth raises his eyes up to his face, looking at him appraisingly. Dean looks down at his hands instead of directly at Seth.

"I heard what you were saying before," Dean says, conversationally, like this is a totally normal occurrence for them now. "And last week. Did you mean what you said?"

"What I said about what?" Seth says, starting to look slightly exasperated again.

"About doing whatever it takes to beat Lesnar," Dean says, meeting his gaze now. "Even if it means you lose everything."

Seth regards him with narrowed eyes, suspiciously, now. "Why do you care?"

Dean shrugs. "I don't know. It just seems kinda selfish to me, honestly."

Seth's eyes widen now, with disbelief and outrage.

"Are you —?" Seth starts, genuinely taken aback. "Are you serious right now? You're calling _me_ selfish? Really? _You?_ " 

Dean throws his hands up, defensively. "I just wanna know, Seth — Why are you so eager to be a martyr, man? Are you really that self-destructive?"

He figures he's not really making this any better for himself, but it doesn't matter anyway.

"You're talking to me about being self-destructive?" Seth says, and then actually lets out an incredulous laugh. " _You're_ the one who decided to fuck everything in your life up — mine too, by the way — and turn your back on the only people who loved you. What the hell would you call _that_ , Dean?"

"Okay, fine, I deserve that," Dean concedes. He sits down across from Seth with a heavy sigh, facing him. "But this isn't about me."

Seth leans back in his seat, tilts his chin up to look at Dean, almost amused now. "Yeah, because you can just _decide_ that, right? Because you're _so good_ at deflecting from your own shit, right? What is this, a new talk show you're trying out again —?"

"Why are you so hellbent on _killing_ yourself to get that title? Are you still so desperate for people to see your worth?" Dean demands, probably a bit harsher than he intended.

Seth just seems tired of all of this now. He lets out a sigh. "You _know_ why," he tells Dean. "It's not really about the title. It's about the fans, the guys in the back, the people who _actually_ give a shit about this. I care about this business too damn much. You used to know what that was like." He gives him a pointed glare.

"That's not fair, Seth —" Dean tells him tersely. That's supposed to be off-limits between them. Seth can question whatever else he wants about him — his betrayal, his cowardice, his avoidance — but not _that_.

"It's not fair? Well, I don't know _what_ you care about anymore, man," Seth says, like he's sorry about that. "I don't know _anything_ about what the hell's been going on with you, Dean. Like, what are you even trying to do right now?"

Dean ignores the question. He doesn't have a real answer for him anyway. "See, I don't think that's the real reason. I think you just need some crusade to put all your time and energy into, because you don't want to deal with your actual life. Or maybe you still feel guilty —"

Dean's never questioned Seth's passion for what they do, but maybe it isn't just about his love for wrestling. The way he's been talking — it feels like his motives are darker, wrapped up in his own insecurities and his own brokenness. And maybe Seth still hasn't quite gotten over betraying them years ago, and everything he did afterwards, everyone he hurt in the name of ambition and greed and glory. But if Seth's still harbouring his own guilt, then Dean knows that Seth's near-suicidal mission is actually largely _his_ fault.

"Dean, what the hell are you actually trying to ask me?" Seth asks bluntly, like he's finally run out of patience for his bullshit.

"Why does it have to be you?" Dean finally blurts out.

"Because I'm the only one who can," Seth says simply, a steely look in his eye. "And that title is all I have left."

"No, it's not," Dean tells him quietly.

Seth just stares at him for a long moment, like he's really seeing him for the first time in months.

Seth just shakes his head. "You still won't tell me why," he says, sounding desperate now. "Why you did it. Why you're leaving. Don't you think I deserve that at least?"

And he looks so, so unbearably sad that it makes Dean want to hate himself even more than he already does. 

"I don't want you to be sad," he says truthfully. "I don't want you to have to deal with my shit. I want you to have everything you want."

"Well, all I want right now is for you to tell me _why_ ," Seth says, looking him in the eyes, his own eyes big and round and shining.

Dean grits his teeth, shakes his head in one sharp motion. "I can't talk about this shit, Seth."

"Well, I wanna talk about it. What the hell are you really doing right now? We can't — We can't be doing this, whatever _this_ is, and just ignore everything that's happened. You wanna talk about _fair_? Well, that's not fair to _me_ —"

"Why not?" Dean says stubbornly. "It doesn't matter anyway. In a couple weeks, I'll be gone from your life anyway."

Seth just stares at him again, slowly shakes his head, almost in a daze until he seems to blink it away. 

"You're really determined to just fuck everything up, huh?" Seth asks him, and it doesn't need an answer this time.

Seth has no idea how right he really is.

"If you're not gonna talk about it, you should just go," Seth tells him evenly. He shifts his body so that he's as far away from Dean as possible, his expression impassive.

Dean's own body stiffens on the bench at his words, his fingers tightly clenched around the hard wood on either side of him. He straightens his back and looks up at Seth, but he doesn't move to leave.

"I didn't know what to do," he starts quietly. "I knew I wasn't okay — I don't think I've really been okay for a long time. And a lot of that was probably my fault, but I didn't want to see it, so I just blamed everyone else. And the last year — I didn't know how to _begin_ to deal with any of it. So I decided to not deal with it at all. And that was easier if you weren't around."

He feels Seth lean forward a little, almost like he wants to reach out and touch him. But he doesn't.

"I was a fucking mess," Dean continues. "I'm _still_ a fucking mess. But I know that I handled it terribly. I made everything way fucking worse. And you didn't deserve that. And I'm — I'm sorry."

He looks him right in the face as he says it and Seth's eyes go wide with genuine surprise for a moment before they slowly grow softer again.

They just stay there for a minute or two, looking at each other, in complete silence.

"Okay," Seth breathes out, eventually. It's not forgiveness, maybe not even understanding, not yet, just some new kind of acceptance. He'll take it.

"You don't owe anyone anything, Seth," Dean tells him, quiet but firm. "You don't have anything left to prove. Anyone who's worth a damn already knows your value."

Dean gets up to leave and he's at the door when Seth finally gets to his feet to stop him.

" _Wait_ ," he tells him, sounding tentative, more vulnerable than he has this whole time. "Do you wanna stick around for a while? We can go grab a bite, maybe talk some more — If you want."

Dean still doesn't really know what the hell he wants, what he's hoping to accomplish by any of this. He thought he needed to be away from Seth before, thought that would be better for both of them, but he's not so sure about that anymore. Maybe they're both self-destructive messes, but maybe together, they can keep each other in check. Not put up with any of each other's bullshit. That's what they've always done. Support each other, make each other better, see all the things they try to hide from everyone else but they never, ever can from each other. Pull each other back from the edge when they've lost themselves or lost everything else.

Maybe he needs that. Maybe he's just missed this. Missed _Seth_. 

He doesn't want him to throw everything away like he did.

Looking at him now, he's suddenly struck with an overwhelming feeling of regret. But somewhere under it, there's hope too.

"Okay," he says softly, giving him a small smile. 

The corner of Seth's lips curl into a crooked smile of his own, and it feels like enough, for now. It's a start. And that's all he needs.


End file.
